Well, can you believe that it’s been nearly a month since Dog Versus Sandwich launched?
If not, why not? How cynical, gentle reader, of you to suspect the very calendars on which our lives are predicated. If time is taken away from us, what do we have left… what do we have left?
Perhaps this poem will help you decide:
What the magician’s assistant says about her master
by Kristine Ong Muslim
You are plume, the invisible hunger that
stretches light until the audience goes blind.
Your secret sicknesses, your tiny deaths–
they are the details that have caught our eyes.
I let your hands touch me while you talk about how the dream
merchants struggle to sell you their wares, their gilded homes.
You are this little death poem, this canned miracle;
the glint in your eyes is what I have mistaken for love.